Lies Are Like Knives
by FluffleNeCharka
Summary: Lies are like knives, they divide and fracture our lives. Fourteen lies Emily and Wayne told each other and other people that hurt more than the truth ever could. Complete, WayneEmily, angst.
1. I hate you

Author's Note: The following fanfic was done for the LiveJournal 7 Lies community, because I am a nerd and I find Wayne to be more awesome than anyone else on the show. Consider all of this to take place before Fillmore came to visit him unless stated otherwise, by the way. Oh, and expect this to be finished tonight because I'm a nerd like that.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - -- - - - - -

Theme One: I hate you.

- - - - -- - - - - -- - - - - - -- - - - - -- - - - - - -- - - - - - - - -

I'm sorry, Wayne. I didn't mean it.

I just – I just couldn't take it. I couldn't. I'm so sorry, I thought I was stronger than this. I thought I could be here for you no matter how hard things got to be in your life, in my life. I wanted to be there for you, if that means anything. I wanted to be your girl in shining armor, your Southern belle. I thought I was tougher than you, so I could support you.

But I guess we know how true that is now, huh? I guess by the time the paramedics took me away and you shook like a leaf you saw just how weak I really am. My body was hurting. It was my mind, though, that had broken, shattered beyond repair. My will finally snapped from under me, leaving me cold, desperate and alone. Alone, because I knew then you couldn't save me. I couldn't save you. We couldn't save each other.

I couldn't keep going. I couldn't live like that anymore, taunted, hated, sneered at, never spoken to, friendless, beaten down verbally by everyone around me. What they did to me physically will go away with time, but it's the things I've had said to me that make me cry into my pillow at night. I'm so sorry, Wayne, I didn't want to leave, didn't want to force you to be there on your own, bearing the weight of everything on your back. But I don't wanna hurt anymore, I don't want to be scared anymore. I just want to be me.

I trusted you and you weren't there for me. That got me hurt, just not in the way you think. I don't care about the broken leg, I just can't believe you weren't there beside me like you said you would be. Don't I mean anything to you? Maybe I do, maybe you love me to, but in that moment, I didn't care what your side of the story was.

"I hate you, Wayne Legitt!"

I didn't mean it.


	2. I love you

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Theme Two: I love you.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I just didn't want to hurt you, Lucille.

You're a good person. You're not like the other girls around here. You're openly girly, you like historical fiction and vintage fashion, you're in the drama club. You're a fine catch, and I really mean that. There isn't anybody else like you, with all these strange ideas and accents and little things you do. You really are a fundamentally gentle and kind soul, and I know you'll make some guy very happy one day.

You've been nothing but good to me, and for that I thank you. From baking me apple pie to just giving me a hug when I needed it, you've always been at my side since I became Patrol Sheriff. You want to be my right hand girl. I want you to stay near me because I like you, as a friend. It's here where I have to apologize, because I guess I screwed myself over on this one. I don't feel for you the way you feel for me. Just try to understand, okay? It's not you. You're a perfectly respectable young lady.

This is my fault. I used you. I'm sorry, Lucille. You were just someone I could lean on, someone I could trust when I needed it most. I used you to vent all my frustrations, my fears, my affection, and I led you on. I'm a terrible person, a lot worse than people think I am. I hope with time, you can forgive me. I guess I needed someone, and you were a soft place to fall. You've got a kind heart. Hopefully next time you can give it to someone more deserving.

I'm in love with someone else. You're a very smart girl, so you've probably figured it out. This has probably only confirmed your suspicions. I won't blame you if you want to never speak to me again for this. I deserve everything you can throw at me, because I'm the one who kissed you, held you tight and lied to you every day for the past two months.

I should never have said, "I love you, Lucille."


	3. I'm Happy

Author's Note: A shout out to the world's quickest reviewer ever, Quirky Misty. Three minutes after I updated, she reviewed. Well done! You've beaten your own personal best on that first chapter.

Also, does anyone else find it funny that the first two chapters were all about honesty, and this entire chapter is one long, sprawling lie? XD

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Theme Three: I'm happy.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Dear Fillmore,

Things just aren't the same around here. Without you, Patrolling just doesn't have the flair it used to. Of course, it doesn't have the injury rate, either, so I guess this is karmatically even. I haven't had a sprained ankle or a bruised knee since I got here. Other than a black eye I got chasing a chronic pig stealer, that is. There's this wacko who rides stolen pigs through the hall for kicks. I should introduce you two sometime, you'd get along famously.

Seriously though, it's been interesting being down here. The start of the year wasn't scorching hot like at X and we didn't get freezing cold like X either. No snow days, but I can't complain. Life here isn't like back home, but it's still good. (Pig thing aside, of course.) The Patrol Sheriff busted his leg a while back when one kid left a bunch of marbles out. Ouch, right? Thankfully the ambulance got here pretty fast. Things are slow around here as far as that kinda stuff is concerned. Nobody ever really gets hurt unless it's football season.

I'm adjusting pretty well, I think. Some of the slang still goes over my head. One kid – we call him Kooter – is really good at Southern metaphors and stuff. I'm totally blown away by him some days. Even the most Southern person you've ever met can't compare to him. He gets epic, Fillmore, to the point where I sort of think of him as my Patrol's O'Farrell. (Don't tell Danny I said that.) I'm better at learning the rules than I am with slang. The handbook's the same but the order's different. Their dress code is in the back, ours is in the front, you know, all that stuff. It's been easy enough to remember the rules, though, since they're all basically the same. It helps to be a little too serious, I guess.

Life around here is pretty easy. I get up, I chase the pigalomaniac, I eat lunch with my partner, and I go home. Homework isn't as bad here, and my grades are actually going up a little. My mom really likes her new job, even though we had to move for her to get it. Life's never been better, really. I still miss you, but I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm happy here. I really, truly am.

Much love,

Wayne


	4. I'll never forgive you

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Theme Four: I'll never forgive you.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I don't mean these things I say to you.

I don't want to hurt you with my words. I don't want to be cold and bitter, because that's not me. You know that's not me, not who I want to be or ever was. I guess that even though the pain is gone and the scars are fading, they did something to me that can't be fixed in so quickly. Maybe the heart takes longer to mend. I don't know, Wayne, I'm not some fancy Southern belle in pretty clothes who thinks about romance all the time. I don't know why I am like I am.

I didn't mean it. I don't mean any of these things I say when I'm around you, I just can't believe what happened. I can't believe it even though every day I'm reminded of it, every time I sleep I dream about it. It's still so strange, so impossible to think that you would hurt me. I can't believe you let me down. It's not that I hate you, it's that I'm still in shock even now. I can't make sense of my world anymore.

You were my anchor. You were who I leaned on, who I fought for. I did the good things I did to help you, not to help the school. I wanted to see you smile. I loved you the best way I knew how, even if I never said those words to you or swooned into your arms. You were more than a crush, you were the reason the sky was blue and the sun rose in the morning. I loved you so much, and I was so dedicated, and I trusted you so deep down that I would have died for you. I nearly did.

And you weren't there for me. You wouldn't risk your job. You were scared. My world crashed down. I don't know what to think anymore. I don't know who to trust. I'll never stray too far from the sidewalk again, I can tell you that much. I'll play it nice and safe and stay with my extended family where I know I won't be hurt again. I don't know what to think, if I should hate you or love you or what. I don't even know what I feel anymore.

When you came to the backwater woods where I live now, I was so scared. I cried. I shrieked. I didn't want to be hurt anymore. I've got such a broken heart that even though the pieces of it wanna love you, my brain couldn't let them because I don't want to break anymore. I'm so sorry it doesn't make sense. I don't mean all these things that tumble out of my mouth, not in my heart, it's just the fear talking.

That's why I slapped you and hollered, "I'll never forgive you!" before I took off like a bunny rabbit, back to my safe little hole.


	5. I feel fine

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Theme Five: I feel fine.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

My name is Wayne Casey Legitt.

In the past year, I've moved away from my best friend, I've betrayed my girlfriend and my moral principles, I've gotten an innocent girl's leg broken, I've looked the other way as everybody around me took bribes, I've taken bribes myself, I've tried alcohol despite being thirteen, I've lied to the police about my mother beating up my father, I've lied about where the bruises on me come from, I've bought a whole wardrobe of long sleeves to cover up those bruises, I've given up on even trying to do the right thing, and for this I've been awarded the position of Patrol Sheriff and treated like a hero.

Yep, I'm doing great.

I'm Wayne Legitt. I am justice as far as these kids are concerned. I'm a hero. I'm the good guy. I stood up for them when no one else would, right? I'm the only thing they've got. I'm one of them, a common kid, the average Joe with a heart of gold. They don't know about the bribe money and the room full of comics and toys that aren't mine. Those that remember look the other way. I'm Wayne, the hero. If I wasn't before then it doesn't matter because I am now. I'm their golden boy.

So no, officer, I have no idea what happened to my hand, I guess I tripped. I'm in middle school, y'know. It happens. Okay, buh-bye, sorry for wasting your time. And just like that I'm safe for another day or week or month or however long it takes before they come around again. I'm Wayne Legitt, I'm not allowed to have problems. I have to stay here where I can protect the school, even if I don't deserve that position. I need to make up for what happened with Emily. I need to make sure everyone's okay. I couldn't suck it up before and deal with reality, and look what happened then. It's time I do the responsible thing and stay put when people need me.

I was Wayne, the new kid nobody talks to because he's all upright and moral. I was then Wayne, the partnerless loser. The loser who had to be careful how he moved somedays because the bruises hurt because his mom had a rough day at work. I was so alone, I guess I thought being drunk might help. It didn't. All it did was make me even more depressed than before, and I gave it up after one night. Still, it's one of those things that brings me down every time I start to feel good about myself. If I'm some great and righteous Patrol Sheriff who everyone's supposed to admire, why couldn't I just say no like a responsible person?

I lied. I lied to Fillmore and said everything was fine. I lied to Emily and said I'd be there for her. I lie to my parents about my grades because I'm scared of my mom. I lie to adults about my mom because she's still my mom. I wish I could go back and undo everything, speak nothing but truth. Maybe then things wouldn't have gone so far south so fast. Maybe then I could trust someone, if I could only trust myself. I'm supposed to be the upright and moral man of the school. I turned Fillmore's life around. So why can't I fix my own?

None of this leaves my mouth as I firmly tell the school therapist the three little words he needs to hear.

"I feel fine."


	6. I'm not feeling well

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Theme Six: I'm not feeling well.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The doctors say I'm fine. Thank God hill people don't believe in modern medicine.

My Nana says I'll be better with time. My Papa says I shouldn't be rushing my recovery. I was on my feet early anyway and had the cast off early and was doing yardwork on it when Wayne arrived. I was pushing myself to recover, to get on with life, to know people here so I could forget what happened. I wanted to be part of their world. Then _he_ came into it and made me realize I wasn't safe here either.

I awoke the next morning to the smell of bacon and eggs. I didn't go downstairs to eat. I didn't even move an inch. I laid there, body only rising slightly with each breath, until Nana came to check on me. Then I staggered out of bed, cringing and gritting my teeth with pain every step of the way. I don't know why. I didn't feel any pain. I didn't plan to do it. I just couldn't help it. I didn't want to run around town doing errands anymore, not if it meant that I had to risk seeing Wayne again and facing everything that had happened.

It's been rough ever since. I want to do things but I'm scared. I want to go outside and play, I just don't want to face kids my age and questions about my past. I want to go into town and go shopping, I don't want to hear salespeople ask about the scars. I want to move on and find a boy to pair off with, as my Nana says, and yet I can't because I don't want any more pain.

If I were better I'd be out there going to all these things my Nana raves about, dances and barn parties and hayrides. If I were stronger I'd be out there playing football with the guys like I used to. I'd be finding love in all kinds of unexpected places from a bunch of guys, since they're all nice and open hearted and sweet. The truth is, though, I don't want a new boyfriend or a new crush or even a new friend who is a boy. I don't want to move on.

I want Wayne. I want to run my fingers through his light brown hair and giggle when he's mad I messed it up. I want to hold his hand because he's afraid of the dark and the power went out. I want to have silent conversations with him no one else can understand because of how good our lips reading skills are. I want to teach the city boy how to build better snowmen and climb trees faster. I want my old life with him back, not a new life with a new boy who won't know all the things he knew and say all the smart things he said. He quoted Shakespeare and drank prune juice and spoke properly.

He was Wayne. He was perfect. He was _mine_.

"I can't go to the hayride, Nana. I'm not feeling well."

And I won't be, not for a long, long time.


	7. I never lie

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Theme Seven: I never lie.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Sometimes I wish someone would just shut me off and fix me.

I don't know why I'm doing this. I don't know why I keep lying to everyone. I want to be a good person. My dream is to be a police officer and have a wife and kids. I know that's a simple dream, but I've ruined it. I can't tell the truth to save my life. I want to, I try to, and then I open my mouth and everything comes out all wrong.

People say loving too much isn't really a character flaw. That's nice, try living with it and get back to me. I know my mom's a jerk, okay? I know that when she hits me and my dad, that isn't right. I know I shouldn't put up with it. Then she starts crying and I run over to her to hold her and tell her it's okay. I tell my dad it's okay and I get him some ice. I try to make sure the next day that everything's perfect, the house is clean and we can be a normal family again. I don't want to see my mother cry. I don't want my parents to look so tired and worn out. I want everyone to be happy.

The school is counting on me to be perfect. They've had corrupt officials for so long they've forgotten what honesty and love are like. I have to be there for them. I have to be good and honest and hard working. I work over time. I'm the first to get there and the last to leave. I pick up people's shifts. I take on intimidating cases. I want to be the perfect knight in shining armor that they need. I want to be there for them, to help them remember what being led by a good person is like. The problem is I'm not good, and I know it. I'm just as dirty as the Patrol Sheriff before me, the difference is it's on the inside instead of on the outside. So what if I don't take bribes anymore? I still _did_, so I'll have to work hard to make sure people forget that and trust in me.

If they don't, I don't blame them. I chickened out on Emily. I failed her, and that hurts more than anything else I've ever done. She was my everything. Sweet, kind, loving, caring, touching, a good listener, and she even laughed at my jokes. She was my perfect match, a partner I could be friends with instantly and love easily. We were supposed to last forever. Everyone said so. I can't imagine life without her even though I live it every day.

So what do I do? Do I come clean with her about everything? Do I tell her how I feel, call the cops on my mom, go the school therapist with my problems? Of course not. I keep smiling and lying and joking until everyone goes back to their normal lives, not realizing that I'm crumbling a little more everyday. I talk a big game about honesty and integrity and hard work, but when I actually have to do it, I crumble under pressure. I am not a good man, not like I wish I were and not like I need to be. A better person would come clean about all of this. A bigger man than me would've chased after Emily instead of running home like a dog with its tail between its legs.

"Is all this stuff you're telling me true?" Fillmore asks, quirking an eyebrow at me. "You really don't know where Emily is or why she ran away?"

Here's a chance to be honest. But it would only cause more problems when he ends up trying to delve into the past and finds out what I did. It's better if he doesn't know. At least, it's better for me, and since I'm a dirty Patrol Sheriff, that's the route I take. Turning to him, I grin good heartedly, pulling my left sleeve down to hide the rings of bruises on my wrist.

"Of course it is, Fillmore. I never lie."


	8. I'm glad we met

Author's Note: Look, everyone, another chapter where the whole thing's a lie laced with painful truths. And more angst, because we just don't have enough of that! /sarcasm

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Theme Eight: I'm glad we met.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I'm glad I met you, Wayne Legitt.

It's been an education, to say the least. If I had never met you, I would never have known just how strong I am. I don't need anyone anymore, and I never will. I don't need friends, I don't need boyfriends, I don't even need my family as much as I used to. I'm not close to anyone and I don't want to be. I'm tougher than that now. I'm an island, a rock, steel. I'm doing better than I ever have before.

I'm not running around like I used to. No more useless bird watching seminars, no more running to the library every three seconds, no more playing sports with every ball and boy I meet. You'd be proud of me, Wayne. I've grown up so much. I don't lie like you do, I don't hurt people at all. Know why? Because no one's close enough to me for me to hurt them. It's called caring, maybe you should try it sometime. I won't ever make the mistakes you made, the mistakes I made. I've moved forward, and I'm stronger than I ever have been.

I'm spending a lot of time alone now, working on schoolwork. I'm the shining star of my entire school and I can prove it if you don't believe me. I'm rising like a star. You should be proud, since you're the one who made me like this. You showed me that people aren't to be trusted and I shouldn't let myself be close to them. You proved to me that I'm better off all alone, that everyone is. I learned a lot from you. That's why my life's as good as it is right now. I used to have all these dreams and hopes and ideas, that everyone was good hearted and lies were rare. Well, you showed me, huh?

But it was good for me. No, it really was. It was a good thing that you took me down a notch, so I could learn to stay on the safe side. I needed to learn that I was being silly and childish. Just think, I might've gone on my entire life with the idea that love was real and you loved me back. I might've trusted the wrong person or too many people, but now I'm perfectly safe. You must be so proud of what you've done to this sweet Southern girl from the middle of nowhere, huh, city boy? Is this what life's like there? Good. I'm glad you taught me that before I ran off to the city to go be a doctor like I wanted to be.

You saved me. Now I know better. I won't be running around the world saving lives. I won't be a cop like I used to consider being. I won't be the most popular girl in school, or on the sports teams, or even people's friend, because people our age aren't good people. Isn't that what you believe, that everyone around us was so corrupt there was no point in trying? That's why you let me go on alone without telling me until I was hurt. That's why you broke your promise to me. And you were right, and now I know better. I'm smarter than I ever was before.

I'm also colder than I ever was before. I'm so alone. I'm so lost. I feel frozen even in summer and in pain even when I'm sitting down. I'm unable to trust in my own ability to do things, let alone anyone else. You hurt me, for my own good. Congratulations. You've saved me from a lifetime of stupidity and made me forget how to let people in.

"I'm glad we met, Wayne."


	9. Of course we're friends

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Theme Nine: Of course we're friends.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I want us to be like we used to be.

I want us to be close, the kind of closeness we used to had, that alluded words. The bond where we mouthed silent words to each other, instinctively knew what each other would like, took a single look at each other and knew what the other was feeling. I want to be able to say a random word like bubbles or tofu and make you laugh like you used to. I want you to ruffle my hair just to annoy me like you used to. I want what we had, because I didn't appreciate it until it was lost.

You're not just a crush, Emily, and I mean that with all sincerity. You're not just some best friend turned romance fling, some summer girlfriend. You're everything I need, everything I want, the person who I always needed. You saw through my lies and personas and got to know the real me, the real problems I had. No one knows me like you do, not even Fillmore. I loved you so easily, from the second I met you. It was so easy to love you, to talk to you, to open up and confide in you. I have never, ever felt a bond like that with anyone in my entire life.

You are the reason I get up every morning, the reason I'm out here in the middle of nowhere trying to talk to you. You're why I became Patrol Sheriff, why I stopped the insane regulations at school, why I do what I do. I've done everything that I can in the past few months to make the school a safe haven, a kind and loving place. The kind of place you would love. I did it for you. You're the candle that lights my flame, Emily.

Please just let me try to be like I used to be. I want to be your friend, and I'm trying my hardest to make up for everything. That's what the flowers and bird photography books are, my way of saying I am so, so sorry. I just want to start everything over. You've been so good to me ever since I met you. You took care of me like it was your duty, you trusted me like it was the most natural thing in the world and you looped your arm through mine every single time we walked together.

I let you down. Words will never convey how sorry I am, how awful I feel about everything. I know you don't mean those things you say to me when your eyes narrow and your voice drops. You're just angry and hurt. I'm hurting, too, but it's okay. I'm here now, and we can work it out. I don't know how, I don't know when, but we'll repair all the damage together. I won't let you stay defeated and broken like this. I love you too much, and I already hurt you once.

I'm here now, Emily, and I'm never leaving you again.

"Of course we're friends," I tell Emily's Papa, looping my arm through hers. She leans back into me, instinctively, though her eyes are wary and her body is tense. "We've always been buddies."


	10. I'm not afraid

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Theme Ten: I'm not afraid.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I want this, too, Wayne.

I know we can't have our old lives back. I know we can't be like we used to be. I'll never be quite like I used to be, and you'll never be just like the Wayne I used to know. It's going to be hard to gain back everything that we used to have. It'll take a long time. Trust is the hardest thing in the world to earn, and the easiest thing on Earth to lose. We won't just snap back into being best friends. We'll have to work at it.

I still want it. I want my buddy Wayne back. I want to hold you while you tell me all those secrets you hide behind those chestnut colored eyes. I want to hear your soft, charming laughter as we sit around laughing over everything and anything, tragic and funny and silly. I know I said some things I didn't mean. I know I hurt you. I cut you, using my tongue like a knife and my brain like venom, and I thought I meant it. I've been so lost and confused without it. I can't live my life without you anymore than I could live it with you.

If you can forgive me, I can forgive you. If you can ignore those hurtful things I said, I'll ignore the time you hurt me. If your parents can accept that I'm in your life again, my Papa and Nana can accept you staying with us for a while. We can do this, if you'll give me an inch for an inch, a truth for a truth. It won't be easy, but we can do this, I know we can. We can because I love you and you love me, so even if it's hard, we're going to rebuild this wrecked thing we call our relationship.

I'm just a country girl. I don't know anything about relationships. I don't know what to do. I know only what I want to do, and that's to love you unconditionally, despite everything that's happened. You're still my best friend, the person I trust on sight, the one person I clicked with right away. I want to hug you, loop our arms together, love on you like we never had a problem. I want to be your girl, and you'd be my guy, and we'd go on hayrides together and stare at the stars at night and talk about everything we could think of. We could be what we used to be, Wayne. Even if it took a while, I'm confident that with time we could be the inseparable best friends we used to be, if we tried hard enough. A part of me really wants that.

Then there's the part of me that screams no, that I'm a fool. There's a part of me that says I shouldn't, couldn't, and won't ever trust you again. How can I trust you when I think everyone's lying to me, when I don't even trust myself to be honest? I can't trust in anyone or anything. I don't believe in goodness and love like I used to. I view these things as good but I view them from a distance. I still haven't made any friends. I can't. I try and then I realize they're just replacements for you and remember how bad that turned out and I can't. I just can't. I want to live life, I really do. I want to be part of the real world again, with friends, family and a boy that loves me. I want what we used to have so badly it _hurts_ like a void inside me.

I just don't want any more hurt from you. But I don't want to say that and ruin what little we've rebuilt, so I take your hand, looping our arms (it feels as right as breathing) and lay my head on your shoulder. You ask if I'm nervous about you, me, we, us.

My mouth moves independent of my heart, which hammers in my chest. "I'm not afraid."


	11. It's cold out here, and I'm freezing

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Theme Eleven: It's cold out here, and I'm freezing.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Well, I'm running out of ideas.

I've tried faking niceness around your folks, I've tried being the sweetest I've ever been, I've done everything I can think of. I got flowers, candy, books, even those ridiculous barrettes you like. I have done each and every thing that popped into my head for you, Emily. What more do you need? What more do you want? What do I need to do to fix this whole mess? This romance thing isn't as easy as I thought it would be. I thought people were supposed to fall in love and then end up together naturally, somehow. I guess I need to try harder.

Taking your hand doesn't work because we automatically switch into arm looping as easy as walking. That's why people believe we're friends even when we're awkwardly in love and at odds with each other. We fall in synchronized steps without trying and we have silent conversations all the time. We're us. Normal rules about romance and holding hands don't apply. Thing is, Em, I don't know a whole lot about even normal romance. I'm sort of new to all this. You're the first girl I've ever really had any interest in, ever.

I can't just kiss you. You're not the kind of girl who would take kindly to that, and it doesn't feel right. It's too intimate, too soon. It wouldn't be right. I can't explain it, but I don't think I've earned your trust back enough to do that just yet. I'm still melting the ice around your heart, snowflake by snowflake. I have to tread carefully. After all we've been through, I don't dare lose you. I love you too much to make a single mistake in this relationship now.

The only thing I can think of is to pull you close. Your scent is familiar, Herbal Essences and incense and soap. I breathe it in slowly, like it's expensive perfume. I lock my arms around your shoulders, nuzzling into your soft blonde hair. Everything is so real. You're so real. I love you, and I need you to know that, because it's been my driving force for so long I can't picture life without you by my side. I need you close to me, warm and real, a solid piece of the present, my treasure.

Arms gingerly wrap around my waist. You lay your head on my shoulder, eyes closed. Is it getting through? Am I getting through to you, conveying what I mean without saying I love you? If I said it, you wouldn't believe it. We've lied to each other too much for you to believe anything I say right away anymore. But gestures aren't words, they're pure, unbiased, real. Please give me a sign, a word, anything to let me know you love me too. It doesn't even have to be a word, just don't leave me in limbo anymore. I'm completely out of ideas.

"My Papa's staring," the words come out a contented purr more than a worried whisper, "He's going to kick your ass."

"What?" I ask innocently. "It's cold out here, and I'm freezing. You were just being neighborly."


	12. I feel fine, Emily's POV

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Theme Twelve: I feel fine.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Author's Quick Note: Yes, it repeats on the original theme list. Most people only do seven, not all fourteen, so this ended up repeating itself in my fic. But at least Emily got it this time around.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I'm back.

This is where I was hurt. This is where Wayne broke. This is where bribes were taken, people were stepped on, and crime went unsolved and rampant. This is where my life spiraled out of control and turned from a sweet dream to a wicked nightmare. The halls aren't as dirty as I remember them, the people aren't running scared, but the way my footsteps echo and the eyes trained on me are familiar. I never forgot this place, and the people here never forgot me.

They know I'm the one who broke hardest. They know the old Patrol Sheriff hurt me and that I left because that was the last straw. They know bits and pieces of the truth. Kooter tells me my eyes are different, like someone painted them over with ice. My old desk was kept just like I had it. It should have felt the same as before, Kooter in my face, Wayne at my side, in my old school, living with my parents again instead of my grandparents. It should have felt like home.

It doesn't. This whole place is a haunting reminder of everything that I'd been trying to forget, every insult, sneer and mocking laugh I endured. I find it hard to trust in these people, to talk nicely, play nicely, be friends with them when they let me be tortured at the hands of the last Patrol Sheriff. I find it hard to believe in them, their innocence, their goodness. I don't see things like I used to. I think that maybe the sweet and innocent girl I used to be might be dead forever, and I have that fact thrown in my face every day I stay here.

I'm only doing this for Wayne. I don't want to help people anymore. Let them fend for themselves. I'm too tired to put up with their nonsense. I just wanna live my life, be me and go with the flow. I'm only on the Patrol because Wayne begged me to, I'm only here because my parents were worried and my Papa and Nana said it would be good for me. I'm here because I have to be. It's my duty. Things have changed for the better, but I haven't, and now I fit in worse here than I did out in the country.

He needs me, though. His Mama beats him and he doesn't have a Nana to run to. His Daddy won't stand up to her and neither of them are going to ask for help from the police. They're sticking together because of love and family and all that. I don't understand that much anymore. I reckon there's no reason to stay with someone who hurts you. Then I wake up and realize I'm here, doing that exact thing every day. I'm here for Wayne the way he's here for his Mama. I still don't think it's smart, but I'm not leaving, so what right do I have to say anything about decisions and logic?

I'm just as messed up in all of this as he is. I'm just as lost and confused now as I used to be. Wayne's slipping away again, into another persona, another lie, another fake smile. I'm losing him. I don't want to. I thought he wanted us to be back together? I thought we were close. I thought we were rebuilding our relationship from the ground up. That's what he promised me. Yet here he is laughing a fake laugh, smiling fake smiles and shaking the hands of powerful people while I fade into the background. I came here because I wanted to rebuild what we had.

This isn't what we had. I'm all alone in this, in ways I never was before. It's one thing to be alone by choice, it's another to be alone because the person you moved here for is too busy to be with you. I get the feeling I'm convenient. I'm useful when he needs to vent about his problems, and then I'm left to my own devices. I'm a tool. I'm being used. I should leave, but I still want to try and get my Wayne back, because I want my life back.

Sniffling, hoping the fact I was just crying doesn't carry in my voice, I hear myself say, "I feel fine. I'm having a great time here, Papa."


	13. There's no one else I'd rather be with

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Theme Thirteen: There's no one else I'd rather be with.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I am my own worst enemy.

I am the reason things don't work out. Especially in relationships. I thought Emily and I had gotten better, I thought I could step back in time and make us like we used to be. I thought maybe I could take her by the hand, lead her back to our old school and our lives would just magically resume their old course. I wanted to relive that brief golden time when I was younger and in love and hadn't hurt her yet. I wanted it so bad I guess I messed up again.

Things aren't like before. I have a lot of responsibility, paperwork, meet and greets, and I'm forever on some cold case or an old, mishandled case trying to right the wrongs of my predecessor. I want to fix the school's bad past, I say, and Emily turns to me, annoyed, and asks but what of the present. She is an enforcer of rules, robotic and unsympathetic, unable to be bribed but also unable to be moved. Her job doesn't take up very much of her time. Her job is just that to her, now, a job. A duty. Not a fun thing, not something she does out of passion, just a part of life. Meanwhile I'm too busy running around the school to even notice when she takes days off and spends them staring at the ceiling of her room listening to the same song on a loop for hours.

This is my fault. I should have realized that there is no stepping back in time. The past can't be repeated. I can't make our lives like they used to be because we're two different people now. We've both changed so much that some people don't even recognize her and everyone knows my name. No one sees any love between us. Maybe there isn't any. I think there was still a spark there, but I've let it die, and now I think there's no getting things back to normal. I can only blame myself. Maybe if I'd stayed with her in the hills and given her way of life a chance we wouldn't be here. Maybe if we'd gone our separate ways and had a long distance relationship that would've worked.

I've changed her, and I don't think I can undo that. I think maybe I could have. I think I broke through to her and got close to her like I used to be. Instead of loving her, though, all I did was drag her down again. The difference between this and the last time is that I don't think I can make this up to her anymore. This may be the last straw, the final blow to her heart that makes her leave me for good. I don't want it to end this way. I want the past back. I want some kind of future. I don't want this to be it.

Then I realize that I've been lying to myself. I don't think I want Emily, not the Emily I see before me now. She's cold, distant, strange, introspective. The sweet girl I loved is gone. I've been clinging to the memory of who she used to be, the past, because the past is safe and secure. I denied Lucille, the future, the girl who I didn't know, because I didn't want to know her. I wanted my old life back. I wanted the good old days. I wanted to believe in the lie life could be okay if only I had Emily so badly that I _did_ believe life would magically be perfect if only I had Emily. But reality isn't lying to me: she is not a magical solution to all life's problems. She doesn't make me happy.

I care for her. I feel guilty for what happened. I love her. I always will. I just don't want her. I don't want to hurt her. That's what I'm doing. I love her, yet I'm dragging her down into a life she can't stand at a school she hates. I love her more than anything. Somehow that's only made things worse. I wish I could do the right thing just once in my life instead of trying and doing the wrong one. I want her to be happy, so why does everything turn out so wrong? Everything I did to bring us closer together, I undid with time and stupidity.

"Something wrong?" Emily asks, head on my shoulder, arms looped like always, teal green eyes curious. No, not curious. Knowing. I think we're both aware this isn't working anymore.

Despite that, I grin and tell her, "No, nothing. There's no one else I'd rather be with."


	14. I’ve never wanted anything more

Author's Note: I'm so sorry I took this into a downer ending. I just couldn't help it. Happy endings are not my specialty and so much has happened between them… yeah, I fail at writing. Sorry!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Theme Fourteen: I've never wanted anything more.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It's pretty clear to me I can't stay here.

I'm fit to explode like a tornado, or so says Kooter, anyway. He's right. This isn't working. I don't want to be here anymore. I don't want to put up with stares and glares and people whispering about me anymore. I don't want to try and live my old life anymore. I want a new life, one that's mine. Wayne's got his and that's all well and good, but this ain't working for me.

I love him and I always will. But this place is one thing I don't love and will never love again. I feel haunted by this place. I want my small town hill and valley schoolhouse back, please. I want my small group of kids who know who I am back. I want to stay here for Wayne. I want to help him. I just want to be happy a little bit more than I want to be with him, and if that makes me selfish then so be it. I can't take this anymore. Love is blind. Love isn't stupid or foolish.

I leave him a note. I sign it with a kiss. I make sure it's honest – haven't we had enough lying for one lifetime – and then I leave without telling him to his face. I run away, to my dirty country roads and fields of crops and ancient house that smells like country incense. I lay in my giant bed that smells like soap and berries and I am home, really, truly home. This is where I belong. This is who I am. I am not a kiddie cop anymore. I don't want to be an Officer. I want to be a doctor and live in the country and make house calls and live in a big house with barn animals.

This revelation I convey to him through a series of detailed emails. I try to explain myself, and explain that I love him more than I love even my own family. I just need to do this for myself. I need to be me. I have to live my own life. He agrees in his own way, and I can tell in a few short lines of email that he isn't mad at me. That's all I need to know to sleep well at night, I decide, and time passes.

We work it out. We call each other. We talk all the time. We send each other emails. We send each other pictures of the people and world around us. We aren't rebuilding what we had, not really. We're creating something new, something different, built on honesty and familiarity rather than the past. It's like falling in love with the same person twice, relearning everything I knew and remembering why we came together in the first place. It's not an instant process, but we finally connect as Emily, the girl I am now and Wayne, the Patrol Sheriff he's become.

A part of him will always want to cling to how it used to be. He will always talk about the past with that fond little sigh he has, and remember the days we were first together with a certain relish. We aren't perfect people, and we don't have a flawless relationship. As long as we keep our lying to a minimum, we should stay afloat. If only he would stop pestering me about coming back to his town for spring break. He says it'll be a nice, relaxing vacation. I try to remember that I'm trying to be honest with him.

But, well, you know me.

"Sure I'll come, baby. I've never wanted anything more."


End file.
